


Power of a Wish

by aj_socks



Category: Queer As Folk - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj_socks/pseuds/aj_socks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Justin leaves with Ethan at the Rage party, Brian is free to do as he pleases. Except, he has been reduced to binge drinking and a constant line of tricks that tend to look too much like Justin once he gets into their pants. One night he wishes the look-a-like was Justin and to his surprise, he gets his wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to sjmpets for being my beta <3

Brian raised an eyebrow at the puffy eyed blond in front of him. Justin's eyes were swollen, his nose looked like a cherry, and he barely had time to take a real breath in between the sniffles. For a second, Brian thought he had come back to beg him to take his sorry bubble butt back. He was certain he was crying because his little romance with the fiddler went down the drain and Justin wanted him back. However, turned out Justin was neither crying nor about to beg for forgiveness.

"Sorry." Sneeze. "Allergies. I ran out of my meds and I've been too busy to pick any up."

Brian wasn't stupid; he didn't believe that one bit. The truth was, Justin couldn't remember right from left when he was working on a project let alone remember to pick up some pills.

"Why didn't the fiddler pick any up?"

 "He's been busy."

“Really now.” What an asshole, Brian thought. He rolled his eyes and kept the thousand complaints against Ethan on the tip of his tongue before they escaped. Since the Rage party, the tension between Justin and Brian skyrocketed and there was no reason to make it worse. Even though he kept his mouth shut to keep the peace, Brian felt the tension building between them each time they met.

More than once, Emmett questioned with a wink whether it was anger or sexual tension between them. Luckily Justin didn't hear him so Brian took it upon himself to send Emmett a dirty look before he could joke about it again.

"Anyway,” Justin continued, “everyone is coming to the art show this weekend. It's Saturday at five. Could you come?"

"No."

"Come on, even Michael is going."

"I'll be busy. And besides, isn't that something your boyfriend should do?"

"So? It doesn't matter if we're in a relationship anymore or not. I thought we were still friends."

"We are."

"Then why is everything still weird? Why is Michael still being a complete asshole even though I've agreed to keep drawing Rage? And why do you keep sending Emmett dirty looks?"

 Brian shrugged. "Isn't the fiddler waiting for you?"

"Brian..." Justin gazed at him with confusion and pain; it was that kicked puppy expression Justin always wore whenever something didn't go his way. When Brian didn't reply, he sighed in defeat. "Fine. I'll see you later, Brian."

 He slammed the loft door as he left, as if that would force Brian to change his mind. It didn't. He had already made up his mind about Justin – if he wasn't coming to apologize or fuck then he didn't need to cater to his needs anymore. Jim Beam agreed with him. Just as he was about to begin his next drinking binge, Brian realized he finished off all the alcohol the night before with those two hot twins.

He grabbed his keys and opened the loft door to reveal a startled, furious lesbian standing outside his door. “Ah shit.” He muttered. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she glared holes into his chin. “What Linds?”

"I ran into Justin on the way up here."

"Fascinating."

"He said you're not going to his art show." She pushed past him into the loft and set down a large plastic bag. "Well?"

 Brian groaned. "Can't you find someone else to bitch at? It's too damn early in the morning."

"It's 3 o'clock. You're just angry because ever since Justin left you've had a never ending hangover."

"That's not true." Brian fell onto his couch and covered his eyes with his elbow. "It'd be gone by now if you weren't here."

"Yeah." She scoffed. "Because you keep drinking it away. Stop being an asshole and go to his show, Brian. I'm not stupid. You obviously still care about him or you wouldn't be this pathetic. "

"Fuck you."

"You're not going to get over him by drinking and smoking pot."

"I don't need to get over him because we were never in a relationship in the first place."

 "Bullshit. The show is at PIFA. It starts at five, but I know you probably won't show up till six."

"I don't care where it is."

"His paintings should be near the entrance, okay? And don't show up drunk."

"I won't show up drunk because I'm not showing up at all."

"Even Michael is going you know -"

"And just because Michael is going means I need to? I don't give a fuck if Michael is going or not. Why does everyone think I care?"

Lindsay chuckled. "Oh, and for the real reason I'm here." She grinned and pulled out a can of tomato soup. Lindsay paused when she opened up the counter to get out a pot, her eyes widened a little in surprise before she closed the pantry to grab a pot. "I came to make you soup."

"I hate tomato soup anyway, you know that. I need -"

 "If you say liquor -"

"Actually, I was going to say I need a good fuck." Brian groaned again. He didn't want to deal with Lindsay's motherly ways anymore. All he wanted was a trick, preferably blond, and a bottle of alcohol, that was hopefully his good friend Jim Beam. Finally, he managed to shoo Lindsay out of the loft, after he endured another half hour of her concern and nagging, and put his empty bowl into the sink. She had practically force fed him, which made him suspect she was taking lessons from Debbie.

How long had it been? Since the drinking started, since he began to lose himself in the fucking? How many blond tricks tainted his sheets with their stench and poisoned the air with their moans? It didn't mean anything, Brian knew without a doubt that they didn't mean anything. It didn't matter that he didn't feel satisfied at the end of the night and laid awake wondering if the fiddler was inside his Justin.

 Except, Justin wasn't his anymore.

The fiddler, Ian or whatever, had taken Justin from him. He was probably sticking his tiny cock into Justin at this very moment, moaning sweet nothings into his ex-lovers ear as he came.

When Saturday rolled around, Brian had already made two more stops to the liquor store and managed to have two threesomes with two blonds he picked up in Babylon. Lindsay came by that morning, as the tricks were getting kicked out; she had another plastic bag with her and even had the same furious glare as the night before. Brian sighed.

"What now."

"Are you going to come tonight?"

"No."

"You're an idiot!" Brian was about to comment back, but she held up her hand to make him stop. "You're so fucking hung up over him that you can't even see what you're doing. Take a look at who you were fucking. They were Justin, only buffer and not as cute or sweet!"

"I was not fucking Justin."

"Then prove it."

He knew what game she was playing, it was the same with all women. They thought they knew him so well, well fuck them. "I don't need to prove anything," he replied.

She shrugged and threw a can of tomato soup into his stomach like a baseball. “Fuck you,” he cursed as he rubbed his bruised stomach.

"Justin likes tomato soup too. Did you know that? And you know what I noticed the other day? You have four cans of tomato soup in your kitchen. I went to visit Justin yesterday because he was complaining that Ethan hated soup and they never had any in the house. You want to know what's funny?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."

"When we were in high school you always said that tomato soup was a waste of time and you'd never eat it ever again. You said that it didn't have any real substance and it was just people trying to fool themselves into thinking tomato juice was food. And true to your word, you never had any and never ate any when you were sick. "

"My logic was flawed.”

"Obviously." She walked over to the loft door and opened it. "When I asked what he did with you, since you hate tomato soup, he looked really confused. He didn't even know you didn't like it. And you ate it yesterday without making that stupid face you used to.

Brian didn't answer her at first; in fact, he left the room and went to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle out of it. He came back and tossed it at her. "Here. Give these to Justin."

"Allergy pills?"

"He's not allergic to those."

She nodded. "I'll see you later tonight, right?"

He didn't answer that at all.  
 

  
It was one of the reasons he disliked women so much. They were manipulative and vengeful and would screw you over the second they got the chance. Not in an obvious way, no, that's too easy. Women were subtle, they didn't actually do anything incriminating so it was impossible to hold it against them in future arguments. Justin reminded him of a woman sometimes in the way he tried to get his way passively before turning into a monster. In the same way Justin was feminine, Melanie was masculine - unlike Lindsay.

Which was why Brian Kinney was standing in the middle of a formal gallery opening in blue jeans and a button up shirt. He seethed as he glared away any strange looks thrown his way as he scanned the room for Lindsay. She was going to pay for neglecting to tell him it was a black tie event. Who would have thought? It was at a college for God’s sake. And to think he thought he was going to look smashing against all the losers at this place. Not that he was trying to entice jealousy out of anyone.

Justin was right in front of him, his blond mop of hair stuck out against his darker paintings. Lindsay, another bright head, was laughing and talking with him, she was completely unaware of the angry glare sent her way. He stopped glaring at Lindsay and took a good look at his ex. Although his smile was strained and dark bags were barely concealed underneath his eyes, Justin looked better. At least he didn't look like a knock off Rudolph anymore.

Brian, content in seeing Justin looked better, was just about to turn around and walk out when another pair of eyes caught his own. The fiddler's eyes widened, he frowned and grabbed Justin around the waist as if he were warning Brian off his territory. Brian raised an eyebrow; if Ethan thought Justin could be tamed he was in for a big surprised. Ethan continued to stare, he didn't break eye contact as he place several chaste kisses on Justin's neck. In fact, he was so caught up in sending Brian angry, possessive signals that he didn't notice Justin's annoyed movements.

Brian turned around to get away from the hideous scene in front of him, but just as he was about to make his exit, Justin's voice called out to him. "Brian?"

Brian turned around in just enough time to see Justin shove Ethan unceremoniously away from him and slip past all the other guests. He grinned at him like a child that had gotten the biggest piece of pie. "I didn't think you'd come."

"No problem."

Out of the corner of his eye, Brian saw Michael emerge from crowd to join Lindsay and Emmett by Justin's work. In that split second, he missed Justin reach up to wrap his arms around his neck in a big bear hug. Justin stood on his tip toes so that he was the same height as Brian and squeezed him so tight Brian was afraid Justin was secretly trying to suffocate him. “Thank you for coming,” Justin told him, taking in a deep breath. Still shocked, Brian did the only thing he could think of – he wrapped his arms around Justin's waist and hugged him back. It was everything he imagined it to be. Justin's scent, the familiar curve of his back, the way his body fit his like a puzzle. Brian breathed in deeply, he wanted to stay like this. He didn't even want to fuck, he wanted to just hold him, breathe him in, taste him.

"And thanks for the allergy pills," Justin whispered. He tightened his hold a fraction before finally letting go and letting Ethan put his arm around his neck.

Another wave of nausea hit Brian like a tidal wave as Ethan placed yet another kiss on Justin's neck. He told himself to be nonchalant so he side stepped them and went over to where the art was displayed.

"What are you doing here, Brian?" Michael asked. Ted rolled his eyes but didn't comment on the sheer idiocy of the other man's question.  

"I'm looking at art."

The first was a painting of two older women sitting next to each other in the park. They looked like a pair of friendly old ladies until you looked closer at their hands. Brian smiled. Justin always had to include something gay in everything. The two women intertwined their hands in a subtle expression of their love.

When he saw the second painting, Brian's eyes widened at the image in front of him. When had Justin seen him act like this with Gus? He was so careful to make sure no one conscious was around when he interacted with Gus like a father.

It was like a snapshot of a few weeks before Justin left. Lindsay left Gus with him for a few hours and, since he thought Justin was asleep, he decided to get down and play with his son. At first, it was awkward. He didn't know what to do or what to say but pretty soon father and son were laughing together. That day he learned that his son liked to pretend he was flying, Brian hoped it wasn't going to turn into a "I think I can fly off the table" habit.

Justin's painting was of Brian lifting Gust high over his head so that he could pretend he was superman. He glanced at Ethan and cocked an eyebrow. What was this? He wanted to say. I'm still that prominent in Justin's mind?  The little spark of hope was prematurely snuffed out when Ethan grabbed Justin's neck and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Brian turned away, he didn't want to see this.

"I'm headed out."

"What?" Justin's voice barely carried over to where Brian was, and when Brian looked into his eyes he wanted to wipe away the disappointment he saw there. That was what he always did though, wasn't it? He was always disappointing him, what he did was never enough.

Brian didn't answer him, he could feel Lindsay's eyes on him, they pleaded with him to stay and show Justin how much he still cared, had always cared. But Brian Kinney was not known for following his heart, he was known for following his dick.  

He left the art gallery and drove off toward Babylon. He needed someone now, anyone now. It didn't matter if Justin was the only one that felt so good against his skin, it didn't matter how much he ached for Justin's smell, his unique taste.

If things could have gotten worse, Brian didn't believe it until he made it to 22nd street. He was crossing the intersection when he saw another car to his right. He slammed his breaks and slammed his head into the steering wheel. His entire world jarred, and he heard sounds echo into his ear like a crash. However, the car was gone and he was fine. "Fuck!" He rubbed his head and decided he needed to get to Babylon before his skin was black and blue. That just wasn't going to be pretty.

He made it there without any further problems except his headache. In fact, he picked up his next conquest faster than usual and made it back to the loft without much conversation. These were the types of tricks he liked the best. The ones that knew automatically it was going to end after a few hours and was okay with that.

 _"Is he conscious?"_

"No, and I'm not feeling a pulse here"

Brian shook his head. "Did you hear something" He asked, breaking the kiss for a moment. There must be an accident outside, he decided when the other man shook his head and attacked his mouth again.  

But his mouth wasn't right. It didn't have the soft, loving feeling he was used to - these lips were thin and tight and wrong. His body was too large, his muscles too big.

Brian tried to shake the thoughts from his mind as he prepared the other man for what was going to be the best ride of his life. However, he couldn't help but think that his ass wasn't very round and his skin was so dark. He tried not to think about how his moan was too deep and how strong his smell was.

 _"I'm still not feeling a pulse we're gonna have to scoop and go or he wont make it."_

Even as he entered the other man, Brian closed his eyes and imagined Justin instead. He could almost touch the image he created until the trick let out a moan and effectively ruined it. Brian felt a small pit in the deepest part of his soul, he felt despair for what he couldn't change. For what he wanted to give but couldn't.  
 _  
"I'm going to intubate... Still no pulse. James, we're losing him! _We’re gonna have to shock him, Charge_ _to 360!_ "_

Brian squeezed his eyelids shut so that the tears threatening to escape couldn't make it down his cheeks. He thrust into the other man again and felt another thought bubble up into his consciousness.  
 ** _  
I wish he was Justin._**

Something happened in that moment, he felt electricity shoot through his body as he thrust again. The body underneath him felt different, Brian leaned forward and took a deep breath of the man. "Justin..." He groaned and thrust forward, he kissed the man's neck. It was almost as if he was Justin.

" _Head on collision victim, unconscious and no pulse at the scene, intibated and gave one mig of atropine. Bp is now 100/60, still no sign of consciousness_

"Has he been unconscious the entire time?"

"Yes."

He dared not open his eyes as he pushed on the brink of climax. The trick moaned and the similarity of his voice sent Brian over the edge. He felt the other man shudder and climax right after him, they both stayed still for a moment. Brian didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to pull out of Justin but he knew that the fantasy couldn't last forever.

He pulled out and tossed the used condom into the trash can. Just as he was about to kick the trick out, he decided that just this once, he'd let him stay. Brian pulled the covers over him and felt a warm body press up against him. He rolled around to tell the man to fuck off but stopped in shock.

"Justin?!" Justin smiled and kissed his chest before snuggling up next to him. Justin was here? How hard had he hit his head?

“Go to sleep.”

 _"Get a CT Scan head, neck and spine and a chest film. Open tib/fib fracture in the left leg. Sounds like a collapsed lung. Get me a CBC and lights. Lets see why he still isn't awake... Fuck, get me three units of O negative and tell the OR we're coming up now!"_

Brian felt his eyelids grow heavier. Questions floated in his head, wondering where the voices were coming from. What was going on? Why was Justin here? Where was the fiddler? He barely had time to think before sleep smothered him in a tight embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

Brian felt a strange pressure on his arm, as if someone was touching him but at the same time they were not. Shoes shuffled on the ground and stopped nearby him. His eyes were glued shut with exhaustion but his ears were fine. He listened closely only to feel malice toward the first voice that reached his ears.

 _"I don't think we should be here."_

 "Maybe you shouldn't be here, Ethan."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He means," Debbie interrupted, "that you don't know Brian so you shouldn't be here. Brian just got out of extensive care, he doesn't need strangers in the room."

"Justin, we're leaving."

"No. I want to be here..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You don't belong here any more than I do! I can't believe you made me spend the entire night here for some guy that treated you like shit."

"He didn't treat me like shit! And you didn't have to stay."

"Whatever, Justin. I'm leaving."

A door slammed and there was silence for several minutes before Justin whispered, "Maybe I should leave. Brian probably wouldn't want me here anyway."

"No, Sunshine. Brian wouldn't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm going to go get some coffee. You want some?"

"Thanks Debbie."

Brian groaned and turned away from the body next to him. He felt as if he'd slept for days rather than hours and his entire body ached, especially his forehead. The voices in his head were starting to scare him; what if he was going crazy? Nah, he pushed the thoughts away from his mind, he must have just had a really weird dream.

"Got a problem?" Justin stroked his morning woody and kissed him.

"What the fuck!" Brian jumped from the bed at record heights, he stared wide eyed at the young man in his bed. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you here and not with the fiddler?"

Justin cocked his head to the side. "The fiddler?"

"Ian! Or Ethan, or... I don't know. That stupid violinist you left for."

"Um, Brian are you okay? I don't know anyone named Ian or Ethan... except this one kid that I used to go to Elementary school with. He was a jerk."    

"What?"

"A bully, you know?"

"No, not that. You don't know who Ethan is?"

"No... Hey, maybe we should go to the hospital and get your head checked. Looks like you hit it pretty hard."

"No."

Justin laughed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He walked past Brian toward the shower without bothering to cover himself. He grinned. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, in a minute."

Brian watched Justin's ass until he disappeared into the shower. Lord, how he'd missed him. No matter how wonderful it felt to be with Justin, something was wrong. What happened to the fiddler? Why didn't Justin remember him? Better yet, how was Justin the trick from last night?

Maybe there was no Ethan and he was a nightmare that disappeared in the morning. Brian heard the water in the bathroom and smiled. Justin was back, did it matter why or how?

Yes. He answered mentally, but even as his own mind supplied the answer Brian chose to ignore it. After all, isn't that what the human instinct dictates? Doesn't everyone choose the route that gives them the most pleasure? For Brian and every other human on the planet, the urge to choose the easy way was nearly irresistible. And at this moment, he decided to fuck it all and be happy. Justin was all that mattered right now.

He slipped into the shower next to Justin, who turned around and directed a smile straight at Brian, unaware of how much Brian had missed this. Ethan had stolen this.

"Brian? What's wrong?"

Brian tried to look away, but his eyes were glued on the young man in front of him. He brought his hand up to caress Justin's cheek, he let his fingertips massage Justin's skin and slowly inch to the back of his neck. He was fucking gorgeous. Brian wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, he wanted to whisper the sweet nothings Ethan could so easily give him. But he didn't, he couldn't - no, he wouldn't. He was not some sappy lovesick puppy. They were not like breeders- stuck in a cycle of false compliments and empty words that ultimately ended in disappointment.

Brian pulled Justin closer to him, he pressed his lips against the other man's and pressed their hips together. He attacked Justin's mouth with his tongue, feeling every familiar curve with his tongue slowly. Justin moaned into his mouth and wrapped his arms around him. A satisfied smile crept over Brian's mouth when he felt Justin's throbbing cock pressing against him. He was flushed and urged Brian to quicken the pace with a quick buck against his leg.

"Patience is a virtue." Brian penetrated Justin with two fingers at once, he knew his flushed ball of sunshine was already pretty loose from the night before.

"Fuck me, Brian."

How could he say no? However, he paused for a moment, wondering why the way Justin said that felt different. It was colder, like the way the tricks talked to him.

Justin turned around to face the glass while Brian put on a condom. He let out a loud, animalistic moan when Brian entered him and pushed him against the glass. It felt so good to be inside him again, Brian kissed his neck and let his hands roam all over the smaller boy. His fingers explored every inch of Justin's skin as if he was trying to memorize every curve.

Sex. It wasn't new, being intimate with Justin definitely wasn't new, but this time it felt different. All of his pain, all of the worry and grief of the past few weeks oozed from his mind as they neared climax. All the alcohol and the poppers and the gazillion random fucks were gone; and in their place was a beautiful man.

This time, Justin was the first to climax, his cum splattered against the glass walls of the shower and his entire body clenched. His last, drawn moan brought Brian to climax only a few seconds, but he didn't want it to end. With a shake of his head, Brian pulled out of Justin and wondered if he was getting too soft. Two times in a row he had gotten mushy and attached to being inside the other man. Fortunately, Justin never got to see inside his head.

Justin turned around and wrapped his arms around Brian's neck and kissed him. "Wanna go to the diner for breakfast?"

"Sure."

They arrived at the diner an hour later, mostly because Brian insisted on making sure the shower was spotless and Justin refused to leave without fixing his hair. Although Brian understood, he wasn't adverse to everyone knowing Justin Taylor had just been fucked by him. Strangely, the bruise he was sure would form never reared it's ugly head to mar his face. He noticed it with a hint of glee and confusion – he had been so sure it would bruise.

Everyone was already at the diner, even Melanie and Lindsay. They were sitting at the table near the door with Gus while Ted, Emmett, and Michael were sitting on the other side of the restaurant. Justin didn't hesitate to make his way to the boys, an action that shocked Brian. Why hadn't he said anything to Gus?

"Hey there, sonny boy." Brian said to Gus, who grinned at him and motioned for a hug. Melanie glared at him and he glared back.. Fuck her. Gus was his too.

"You're up early," Lindsay commented with a grin. "It's not even noon yet on a Sunday morning."

"When did I get a reputation for sleeping in late? And I was hungry. Although, I should probably head across the street if I want actual good food -"

"Shut up, Asshole." Debbie smacked the back of his head. She was grinning bigger than Lindsay and nearly as bright as Justin. "Now sit down and I'll get you an omelet."

"I want toast and coffee thanks."

"That's not a healthy breakfast!"

Brian rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. He knew she'd bring him the omelet regardless, and she'd give him the bill too. He said good bye to Gus before he sat down next to Justin, who was listening to Emmett talk about his next big party. For the most part, Brian lazily eyed the man at the counter. He didn't recognize him, but his mind's eye was already showing clips of a fun trip to the backroom. His eyes followed him as he left the diner, and once the door shut and he was out of sight, Brian turned his attention back to the conversation.

"It's a birthday thing, for a friend," Emmett explained.

Brian snickered. "You have other friends besides us?"

"Yes, now shush. He made it so boring! I mean, all he wanted was all the sexy men in sexy clothes so he decided that dance was the theme."

"Dance?"

"Yeah. Everyone has to dress up like a go-go dancer."

Brian glanced at Justin and smiled. "You have experience in that, don't you Sunshine?" He turned back to Emmett. "Why would I go to a party for someone I don't know?"

"There might be someone there you haven't fucked yet?"

The moment the words left Emmett's mouth, Brian watched for Justin's hurt expression from the corner of his eye. To his surprise, Justin didn't look sad or disappointed. In fact, his eyes were playful and he looked like he was excited.

"Awesome. We should go Brian."

What. The. Fuck..

"God, don't you two ever stop?" Michael asked with a laugh. "There should be a limit on how many men a guy can fuck before his dick falls off."

Before Brian could answer, Debbie brought him the omelet he didn't want and gave Justin a heaping plate of pancakes. "There. Enjoy. What are we talking about over here?"

"Emmett's next party." Michael looked at his Mother, expectantly. "Where's my food?"

"... You ordered something?"

Brian shoved his omelet to Michael. "Can I have my coffee."

"Sure thing, sweetie."

As he sipped at his coffee, Brian ignored the rest of the table's conversation. He wondered for the millionth time what was different and why he remembered the fiddler when Justin didn't. Something was wrong. Justin looked normal, he felt real, he was acting mostly normal and was even shoving food down his mouth as if the pancakes would disappear - just like usual. He ate the entire serving without a second thought to the calories and fat he was putting into his body. Just like usual.

But something was off. Something made his skin crawl with dread, something about the entire situation twisted his stomach into knots and he just couldn't shake it.

Justin touched his arm and whispered into his ear, "Brian, could you give me a ride to PIFA?"

"Sure." He stood up. "But you don't have school today."

"I didn't finish an in class assignment because my hand acted up Friday so the professor said he'd give me this weekend to finish it."

"And you waited until now."

"Yeah." Justin had the decency to flush bright pink. "I had other things on my mind."

Brian didn't need to reply to that. He drove to PIFA with questions on the tip of his tongue, but he was hesitant to ask the young man.  However, curiosity won out in the end so he went with the first question that came to mind: "What did we do for your birthday again?"

"Um... I was supposed to go to a concert but you convinced me to stay home." Wink. Wink. Brian cocked an eyebrow, Justin winking like that was just.... wrong. "And then that sexy present you got me came and it was awesome. I felt bad for ditching Lindsay and Melanie though."

"Oh, yeah that's right. That memorable, huh?"

"Hell yeah. I got to fuck him while you fucked me. I'll be back in time for Babylon, I promise."

"Do you need me to pick you up?" Brian asked as he parked the jeep by the curb.

"No. It's fine. See you tonight." Justin gave him a quick peck on the lips before he hopped out of the car and headed for the building. Brian watched him until he disappeared, a frown appeared on his lips as he drove back to the loft.

Justin's behavior was starting to worry him. From the indifference about tricks to Ethan's strange disappearance, and even the fact that he didn't remember what Justin said happened. He wouldn't forget a threesome with a guy that looked like a model, and he knew he didn't make up Ethan to torment himself.

 _"What the fuck are you doing here?"_

Startled, Brian nearly hit the brakes to look for Michael in the back seat.  He groaned. "Shut up!" He shouted to the bodiless voice that sounded suspiciously like Michael. It must have come from the street; if not,  he was finally going crazy. That hit to the head had been the last straw.

He parked the jeep, went up to the loft, and flopped down on the bed like he used to as a child, or like Justin liked to do when he thought Brian wasn't looking. It was cute, an adorable habit that made him crack a smile.

This Justin was different. He couldn't be his Justin, could he?

Brian closed his eyes, he didn't feel like he got enough sleep the night before, even though he knew he had more than enough.  
 _  
"I'm here because I care._ "

Where were the voices coming from? Brian curled up on top of the sheets and tried to stop listening to the voices, but the closer he got to sleep, the louder they got.

 _"You didn't care when you left with Ethan!"_

"Don't act like you know anything about that, Michael."

"You know what I know? I know that Brian doesn't give a fuck about you anymore."

"He-"

"Justin, you're obviously not welcome here anymore." Ethan interrupted. "Why don't we just leave. You don't need this."

"I'm not leaving."

"Justin, that asshole didn't visit you once when you were in the hospital after the bashing. But you're not even going out with him anymore and you stay here. Fuck, you only leave to go to school and shower!"

There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by Micheal's feeble protest on account of Brian being an asshole.

"Ethan..." Justin began, he paused again as if choosing each word carefully. "Brian may not have visited me in the hospital, but he helped me for months after that. He's still helping me, despite what I did to him."

"He hurt you."

"I hurt him."

"I think you should both leave. You're not a part of Brian's life anymore, Justin."

"So everything about us still being friends, that was all bullshit? Fuck you Michael. If you don't want me here, then you'll have to drag me out because I'm not leaving."

Brian woke up feeling oddly refreshed and happy. The protective tone of the voice left him elated, the voice had sounded so similar to Justin's.  For a moment he wondered if he got high before he went to sleep and couldn't remember it, but then laughed at how absurd that was. He looked at the clock: six-thirty.

"Where the fuck is he?" Brian mused aloud. He checked his cell phone and noticed two missed calls and a new voice message.

"Hey, Brian!" Justin's voice shouted through the phone, then he got quiet as if he had suddenly remembered he was at PIFA. "I know I told you I'd be back sooner but I got caught up so I'll be back a little before seven. Sorry!"

Brian shrugged. It didn't matter when Justin got home, just so long as he came home and stayed at the loft. He went into the kitchen to see if Justin had anything to eat in the house, he was the only one that bought any decent groceries. The only thing that looked both easy to make and slightly enjoyable was a can of tomato soup.

 _"When I asked what he did with you, since you hate tomato soup, he looked really confused. He didn't even know you didn't like it."_ Lindsay's voice echoed in his memory as he took out the can.

A small part of him wanted to show Justin that he could be a little romantic. Well, not so much romantic as worth going without the flowers and the lengthy discussions under the stars. Tomato soup was romantic, in a strange Brian Kinney way.

So, when Justin walked in the door, he was expecting him to shower him with kisses and love for making him one of his favorite meals. He knew that big, blinding sunshine grin was going to grace his lips for the rest of the night and that he would brag about it. He didn't mind. Justin could tell everyone in the world he could make tomato soup if he wanted to.

This was not the reaction he received.

"What the hell, Brian? We're going to Babylon tonight, remember?"

He didn't give him a kiss, he didn't hug him, he didn't even bother to say anything else except a muffled, "get ready."

Brian felt his chest squeeze and his throat swell until he could barely breathe. His mind went back to the first time Justin made him a meal. It may have been a disaster for his kitchen, but Justin had put a lot of effort into making him happy. And what did he do? He brushed him off and fucked a random trick he'd never see again. Was he getting back at him for that?

If that was the purpose, Brian knew Justin succeeded. Whatever. Two can play that game, he thought as he dumped the soup down the drain.

It was the same as every night at Babylon. Nothing looked different, the men were sweating against each other and everyone was trying to find their next conquest. Ted was holding up the bar, Emmett was down in the crowd, and Michael was hovering next to Brian. Everyone was in their normal spot except Justin.

"Did you see where Justin went?" Brian asked Michael, who replied with a shake of his head. His best friend stared at him like he had grown another set of balls out of his forehead and Brian realized that things may be even more different than he thought.

He didn't know how it was possible, but this wasn't the world he knew. It was off, Justin was off. Brian looked down at the dance floor and scanned the ground for Justin. Then, he spotted a bright head, a luscious body pressed against another man's. Justin had his arms wrapped around the trick's neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss.

He must have stared at them too long, because Michael started to poke at him and ask him questions. Brian couldn't hear him above his inner voice screaming that this was wrong, that Justin shouldn't be kissing anyone else but him. What happened to the rules? The fucking rules that Justin wanted?

Brian ignored Michael and pushed past the crowds until he reached Justin. He grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the trick. He knew that he was being irrational, that there had to be some sort of strange explanation. But he couldn't stop the fire raging in his chest, he couldn't stop the memory of Justin with Ethan, of the grief and despair that he had no right to feel. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" Justin tried to pull his arm out of Brian's grasp, but Brian tightened his hold. "I'm going to go fuck."

"You said no kissing." He had no right to feel betrayed or hurt, he had no right back when Ethan stole him away either. He had insisted that they weren't in a relationship, despite the rules. He couldn't blame Justin, he didn't want to blame Justin.

"What?"

"The rules! You - "

"I don't know what you're talking about Brian."

Brian let go of Justin's arm; he felt like his head was going to explode. "Who the fuck are you? Because you sure as hell aren't Justin and why is everyone acting so fucking stupid?" He knew it was irrational, that he may sound like a lunatic, but this wasn't right. None of it was.

"I'm what you want me to be!"

There was a pause between them, a heavy, suffocating embrace despite the music. Brian didn't know what to say, he didn't understand but he knew it was important. He was everything Brian wanted him to be. Justin's expression turned from rage to frightened before Brian could open his mouth to reply. He turned away from Brian and shoved everyone out of his way as he bolted to the door.

"What I - Justin, wait! Fuck!"

But Justin didn't wait. He was like an animal freed from his cage and like a wild animal, he was stupid. Brian knew where he was headed the moment he turned, the idiot was going back to the loft. Even though he was certain Justin was headed there, he wasn't confident enough to lose track of him just to get the jeep. He could get it in the morning. So, he ran after Justin, hoping to god he might catch him and confront him before the night was over.

"Justin!"

Suddenly, Justin curved to the right, he ran into the park he and Lindsey used to walk through and stopped. He was panting, his face flushed and sweat trickled down his forehead. Brian caught up to him, but kept his distance. He didn't want Justin to freak out and run away again.

"What the fuck is going on Justin?"

"I - I told you. I'm everything you want me to be."

"What are you talking about."

"Justin."

"Justin - what? You're Justin."

"Don't be a fucking idiot. You've known for a long time I'm not Justin."

"Then who are you, his evil twin?"

"No."

 _"Brian... Look. I know we're not together anymore, or ever for that matter. I just ... You need to be alright."_

"Then who the fuck are you? And why do I keep hearing voices?"

Justin frowned. "You really haven't figured it out?"

"... This is a fucking dream isn't it?" When Justin didn't answer, he sighed and sat down in a huff. "And let me guess, this is the part where I get a revelation about life."

"Sorta." Justin sat down next to him. "I'm your subconscious." He paused for a moment, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "You know, it wasn't completely your fault. I mean, a lot of it was but not all of it. Justin couldn't deal, you didn't try to give him any false hope."

"Fuck you."

"You didn't, did you?"

"You tell me. You're my subconscious, remember?" When the other man just sneered at him and didn't reply, Brian sighed. "No, I didn't mean to but I did. Every time I fucked him. He thought he was special."

"He is special."

"So what was it? A car crash?"

"Nice change in subject. Yes, it was a car crash."

Brian groaned. "Ah shit. That must mean I really do have a fucking bruise."

"Yes," his subconscious muttered under his breath. "That's what to focus on, a bruise that will disappear in a few days." He cocked an eyebrow at Brian and said, "Aren't you worried about your dick? I'm surprised you haven't asked about it's condition yet – Woah, breathe man I was joking."

Brian sent him an angry glare, but didn't press the issue. He made a quick wish to any deity that wanted to listen to him that his dick be safe. He didn't think he could get Justin back without it. Suddenly, he thought back to what Justin said earlier. "What did you mean that you were everything I wanted you to be."

"Justin. I'm everything you wanted Justin to be. Liked it?"

"Are you trying to tell me that I wanted Justin to be like that?"

The Justin look alike shrugged his shoulders. For some reason, that irritated Brian, but he kept his tongue in check. It would be like snapping at himself.

"I like Justin the way he is."

"No you don't. You hate how romantic he wants you to be, so that went away. You hate that he hates it when you trick, so bam, that was gone. Did you like what you got?"

"No. He's an asshole."

"Ah, really now?" His subconscious Justin snickered at some inside joke Brian felt he should have been a part of. Especially since it was _his_ subconscious.

"That doesn't explain anything."

"You know... You don't have to be such an ass here. Justin isn't really here. No one is. You don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid."

"Bullshit. You're so fucking afraid of hurting Justin that you hurt him anyway."

"I didn't hurt him."

"Yes, you did. And he hurt you. You being an asshole didn't stop him from loving you. Just do it now. It won't hurt."

"Do what?"

"Tell him what you wanted to say."

Brian turned to face Justin. His throat closed and his entire body felt numb - whether because of the cold or his nerves he wasn't sure. "I can't change the past." He paused, then hugged Justin with all his might.

He didn't say anything for several minutes, he just held onto the image of the man he longed for every night. The man who had wiggled underneath his tough exterior and found a place in his heart. He couldn't say those three little words, but he could tell him what he wanted.  
 _  
"I don't want you to go."  
_  
Everything that had seemed to real moments before vanished into darkness. It was like a dark cloud had settled over them until even his image of Justin disappeared. He closed his eyes, it was time to go home.

 "Wake up." Justin whispered into Brian's ear. When Brian opened his eyes, he saw Justin's head laying next to his shoulder and felt a profound sense of relief. Justin's hand drew lazy circles into his forearm and for a moment, Brian savored how the light touch connected them. "I don't want you to go.” Justin continued, his voice barely audible.

 His throat was parched but he managed to release two hoarse words to try and ease both his own pain and Justin's. “I won't.”  



	3. Chapter 3

Justin's head shot up, he stared at Brian with a mixture of shock and awe that made Brian smile and made him want to hug the other man. He didn't, instead, Brian watched him and visibly relax, as if all the tension from the past few days had left him only to take his strength as well. This was the Justin he knew, the Justin he cared about more than anyone else.

"Brian..." Justin's lips trembled as he spoke and Brian noticed tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. He smiled, Justin still wore his heart on his sleeve, just like he used to. No matter how long he was asleep, which he hoped was not too long, Justin had not changed. That other Justin, the one in his subconscious, had nothing on the real thing.

"Have you been here the entire time?"

"Uh, no." But as he said denied it, Justin looked away from him with an guilty expression. He had been there, that much was obvious. From the looks of it, he had been doing his homework here too - a half finished sketch underneath the laptop on the seat next to him.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Almost a week. Six days."

"You've been keeping count," Brian teased. He loved the way a faint pink hue ghosted on Justin's cheeks. "I can't imagine the Fiddler was happy about you being here."

"No, he wasn't." Justin stood up and began to gather his things. A backpack was stuffed underneath the seat and he put his sketchbook inside. At first, Brian had not given any thought to what could have caused the guilty look on Justin's face when he asked if he had stayed the entire time. Now, he could see that it wasn't embarrassment, like he had initially thought, but because the fiddler was angry and probably going to accuse Justin of some injustice. The thought made Brian's blood boil; who was he to tell Justin not to stay by his friend during his time of need? He recalled the heated discussions he heard during his dreams and smiled. However, the smile was wiped from his face as quickly as it came when he noticed Justin sling his backpack over his shoulder and head toward the door.

"You're leaving?"

"I'll go call Michael and wait until he gets here."

Brian frowned and tried to think of words that would make Justin stay, but his mind was as blank as a new sheet of paper. Justin paused at the door before he walked out - hesitation, Brian noted with satisfaction. If nothing else, the fact that Justin had stayed with him and was hesitant to leave gave him hope. With the right amount of schemes he could have Justin begging to take him back. After all, he'd rather eat his own arm than beg Justin to come back. Begging was unbecoming.

A doctor came in to explain what happened while Justin was outside. They told him that he was in a car accident and suffered a bad blow to the head that left him in a coma. He was shocked to hear that because of the strong impact, the seat belt broke two of his ribs and one perforated his lung. That was going to be annoying as hell to heal, let alone curb his usual activities to wait for the dang thing to heal correctly. At least his head injury wasn't bad. Justin's head injury was by far worse, and it didn't change anything for Brian other than the massive headaches he'd have for a few weeks.

Justin came back in after the Doctor left with Michael, Debbie, and Lindsey. Brian frowned. He didn't remember Justin being gone so long, the doctor had not been talking that long had he? Lindsey was the first to say anything to him, her smile radiated happiness as she flung her arms around him in a tight embrace. "God, Brian you have us so worried!"

"Yeah, asshole. Next time don't let the other guy hit you."

"Ma!"

"What?" Debbie laughed. "It's true. And I brought you some lemon bars."

"I don't want any."

"Too bad."

"Um, hey." Justin interrupted. "I think I'm going to head off. I have school in a few hours and since Michael's here and all..."

Brian was about to assure him he didn't need to leave when Michael's voice stopped him. "Exactly. I'm sure Ethan is waiting for you." The murderous glare Michael sent at Justin shocked Brian. It was never a secret that Michael was not always fond of Justin, but he had never once treated him quite like _that_. Although, Michael had a point.

Justin's forced a smile, Debbie looked like she about about to scold her son, Micheal was wearing a smug grin - all the while Brian studied his former lover. Ethan was the key - he had to make Ethan screw up. Justin would never leave Ethan just because; no, he had to have a damn good reason to come back.

Brian knew Justin better than anyone, he knew how to push his buttons, how to make him squirm, he knew how to make him moan in pleasure - he knew how to screw up too. Now he had to make Ethan screw up so badly that nothing could make it up to Justin. Who would help him do that?

Michael started to jabber into his ear about some new comic and Debbie tried to force feed him lemon bars. All the while, he went through the list of people that could get him back with Justin without arousing suspicion. The last name on his list was the most surprising and least likely to help him.

Daphne. Her name came with a thousand reasons why he shouldn't dare ask her to help him, but she was perfect. One problem was that he knew nothing about her other than the fact she was Justin's best friend and had been around since the beginning. He didn't have a phone number to get in touch with her let alone a last name to look it up under.

"Brian? Brain are you listening?" Debbie flicked his forehead and held out the lemon bar. "Thank god Michael finally left. He almost ate your last lemon bar."

"Shame."

"Eat it."

"Did the doctor say I could eat it?" Brian stifled a chuckle bubbling up into his throat at seeing the older woman send him a motherly frown. “Do you know Daphne?"

"Sunshine's friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to her. Do you have her phone number?”

Debbie frowned at him again, he could see the wheels turning in her mind in a feeble effort to figure out what he was thinking. Hell, he didn't even know what he was planning. He was released that day after the doctors carefully examined his lung until they were happy. They were pleased at the progress he was making, the grumpy one even smiled and told him he was going to be back to normal.

That night he left the hospital with a medical release back to work, although it did say he could take a another week off Brian wasn't about to do it, and Daphne's phone number – which he had mentally wrestled out off Debbie.

A new account temporarily distracted him from contacting Daphne right away, which he landed easily even with a hideous bruise on his face. When he called her, he expected her to yell at him and hang up the phone, but he was surprised when she was friendly.

“What do you want?” She didn't say it in a rude, annoyed way; in fact, she was polite and even sounded excited to hear from him. “How did you get my number?”

“I got it from Debbie. Look, I need your help.”

Brian Kinney hated asking for help. If he hated anything more than asking for help, it was someone asking for his help. If they couldn't do it on their own then they were useless pieces of shit in his mind, and he didn't need anyone like that. However, after an entire night of visualizing Justin's moist lips over his cock only to be disappointed at the random trick actually there, Brian decided that he was going to break yet another rule for Justin.

He heard Daphne snicker on the other line and nearly groaned at his stupidity. He shouldn't have asked for her help, but it was too late now. She stopped laughing and said, “You need my help? To get Justin back?”

Now how had he given her that impression?

“Can you help or not?”

“Duh. He's my best friend. The question is: are you going to actually listen to me?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, I'll help you. I don't like that Ethan guy much, anyhow. Oh! Did you know that Justin likes to reach raunchy novels? He keeps them under the bed, like the very corner where you can't see them. He's probably done everything possible to make sure you didn't find out about that, am I right?”

Brian frowned. No, he hadn't known about that; although, that put some random habits Justin had into perspective. He always wondered what made Justin dash for the bedroom if he came home early. His frown deepened. Why did he need the novels for? Brian was more than enough to keep his sexual fantasies satisfied.

“He liked the romance in them.” Daphne explained, as if she had heard Brian's inner complaint. “So that's what you're going to have to do.”

“I don't do romance.”

“You do now. Invite him over for a romantic dinner. Cook his favorite dish and give him roses.”

“I don't do flowers.”

“You're right. You don't do flowers, you do roses.”  
“I -”

He tried to get another word out, but Daphne didn't care to listen to his two cents. She cut him off and said, “Do you want my help or not? Do it. You asked for my help, now you do it my way.”

“Your way isn't going to work.”

“And what do you think you should do?”

“I want him to come back to me. Do your little fag hag thing and convince him I'm better.”

“My fag hag thing? What the hell is that? And why would I do your job? If you want him, be fucking romantic. That's all he wanted in the first place. Just try it my way first.”

And that was how he got into this position in the first place. He agreed to her plan with a little more than reluctance, actually he was quite nervous about it, and spent an entire evening looking through his pantry for anything edible. In the end, he decided on tomato soup. The damn stuff was Justin's favorite and it was starting to grow on Brian, despite what he claimed.

Still, the shocked look on Justin's face when he asked him to come to loft at six o'clock was more than enough of a reason to ask. Those delicious pink lips were parted in a silent “o” - as was everyone else in the diner – and a faint blush ghosted over his cheeks. It was reassuring that he still had that kind of affect other the other man.

“Okay.” Justin replied after an ungodly amount of silence. “Ethan's visiting his Grandfather this weekend so I'll be bored anyway. Why do you want me to stop by?”

“You left a book at my place that I keep forgetting to bring here.” He lifted an eyebrow at the deepened red hue on Justin's cheeks. “I found it under the bed.”

“Um, yeah about that -”

“No need to explain, Sunshine. What you do with your time is your business. When do you get off? I'll pick you up.”

“I get off at five but Brian... are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You're acting weird.”

“Yeah.”

Really, there was nothing left to say. Justin had agreed, that was all that mattered. Brian left the diner without saying a word to Michael, who would later complain about it on the phone, and with Justin's eyes staring at his back. He could feel his blue eyes searching for more answers than cryptic replies he was known to give. Brian smirked. The back of his head wasn't going to reveal Daphne's plan.

Her plan was simple: be romantic, get him flowers, and have dinner. So, Brian took out some bowls, they were clean and plain... romantic? He set the table with silverware and napkins. He then proceeded to be adorable and cook Justin tomato soup for the second time, for some reason he was counting the time in his coma. All in all, he was confident he was being ridiculously romantic enough for Justin – he even grabbed a copy of the song Save the Last Dance for Me to play at the end of the night.

The only thing he didn't do was get the roses. He couldn't. His fingers reached for them only to snap back as if the stems had lashed out at him. The store clerk passed by a few times and gave him a few strange looks before coming up to him. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” Brian snapped.

The store clerk wasn't fazed by Brian's biting tone, if anything she looked amused. “Do you want me to wrap those up for you?”

“No.”

He had left the store in a foul mood only to get distracted by the soup and putting everything together. Six o'clock came faster than he thought it would and he quickly covered the bowls of soup so that they would stay warm. The Diner was only a few minutes and luckily Justin didn't have to stay after to help Debbie. Justin chatted about his day at the Diner, something about a guy grabbing his ass, but he seemed uncomfortable – like he was talking because he didn't want to face silence between them.

“What is this, Brian?”

Brian didn't know how to answer him so he shrugged the question off. He handed Justin his dirty novel and said, “I figured you'd want to eat all that soup you left here.”

“What?” Justin stared at him, a mixture of confusion and desire mixing in his blue eyes. He looked like he didn't quite believe what was happening. “You have to be kidding.”

“'Fraid not, Sunshine.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? Fuck, if I knew you were going to be such a drama princess I would have just paraded your book around the diner and not bother feeding you. You'd think Ian would appreciate me keeping your bubble butt healthy.”

“It's Ethan.”

Brain didn't reply to that. Instead, he took the liberty to look Justin up and down. He was exactly the same, except he had lost a few pounds in the past few weeks. Brian noted the weight loss with grim satisfaction, he wondered if it had anything to do with the time he was in the hospital. He let his eyes wander back to Justin's flushed cheeks.

“Aren't you going to sit down?”

He started to eat without Justin, who stared at him in shock for several minutes before collapsing on the chair with a huff. Brian knew he was tired from work and at least he didn't hate Brian. If anything, Justin was probably just as infatuated with him and he was with Justin. Based on his artwork, that is.

“So that painting you did -”

“Why did you ask me to come here, Brian. Have you just run out of tricks or something?”

Justin's abrupt change in attitude surprised Brian. He frowned and replied, “No. I can get anyone I want. I didn't ask you here to fuck. I wouldn't have made soup.”

Justin paused. “I guess you're right.”

They began to eat in silence, but just as Brian was about to break it, the buzz erupted from the pad by the door. “Who the fucking hell - “ Brian cursed under his breath. He pressed the button and asked who it was.

“Flower delivery.” A woman replied.

Brian cocked an eyebrow. “I didn't order any flowers.”

“It's from Brian Kinney to Justin Taylor,” the woman replied into the speaker. Brian could hear her smile even though he couldn't see it. He bet it was the same woman from earlier back to haunt him.

He never ordered any flowers. He didn't order anything. Brian was about to deny it, a few curses were about to slip past his tongue, when Justin came up behind him. His blue eyes flared with anger and Brian was further shocked to see a disappointed sneer on Justin's face.

“Flowers? What the fuck, Brian.”

He didn't know what to say. Suddenly, his throat was parched and no words would find themselves in his mind. Brian could only stare at Justin as his face went from furious to confused then back to angry. A little voice in his head, who sounded suspiciously like Daphne, begged him to say something. Brian considered what he could say to appease Justin and keep him around for a little longer, but the more he thought about it only reaffirmed his belief that words were useless.

Justin shook his head sadly and Brian couldn't help but wonder what was going through the other man's head. He never got a chance to ask, however. Justin turned away from him and opened the loft door. Nothing could be said to keep him there, so Brian watched him leave with a mixture of regret and grief. He had messed up – again.

The woman who brought the flowers came up to the door. She was smiling as brightly as Brian had imagined; he wanted to tear that happy smile right off her face. “Get the fuck out!” He slammed the door in her face, but her smile never wavered.

His next mission: kill Sunshine's best friend.

“Daphne?”

“Yeah?” She sounded distracted, as if she were talking to someone else while on the phone with him. “Brian I really can't talk right now. But I guess I could spare a minute. How'd it go?”

“He fucking hates me now! Fuck, I shouldn't have listened to you. Did you buy flowers? Fuck you!”

“Brian, calm down -”

“No!” He needed Jim Beam, he needed some pot, he needed … Justin. Tears prickled at his eyes and he swiped them away. He hadn't cried since Justin left at the rage party, and even then he had not allowed himself to actually cry. He tried to stop them, he did everything stop the waves of grief running down his face but they stained his cheeks anyway. “I'm doing this my way.” He choked out through the muffled sobs. He didn't want her to know what he was doing.

“Brian... are you okay?”

Crying is a weakness. It tears you down and destroys the barriers. Tears let people know who you care about, they allow the person to know they have control. They say that knowledge is power – if anything is worse than someone having power over you, is if they knew they had that power.

Brian hung up the phone without answering her. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was going to do something. _Something_.

~~***~~

  
The opportunity didn't come for several weeks. He landed a job with the police chief running for mayor, who, incidentally, hated homos. It didn't bother him that he was helping a man that could take everything away. Honestly, he didn't think the man was going to do anything significant. In the end, nothing came of mayors. They were useless.

“Can I hang this in your window?” He asked Debbie with a smirk. Her smile was wiped away at seeing the name on it, and she cursed a few times at him. Even Melanie had her two cents about the homo-hater. “It's a fucking job.”

*“Justin!” Debbie put her arm around Justin's shoulder. He must have been just starting his shift, but he looked exhausted and a bit pale. Brian frowned. Was he sick again? “Some people still care about the community.” Debbie puffed out her chest with pride. “Ethan sacrificed a big record deal because they said that he couldn't be with Justin.”

“You mean he couldn't be gay. Still, why the fuck would anyone give that up?”

“Because he loves me.” Justin replied, his eyes challenged him.

“Whatever, Sunshine.” Brian stood up away from the counter. “But there's nothing noble about being poor.” He left without waiting for an answer and left for another day at work. The entire day was a bust, even though he went to see Michael afterward. If anything, that was a fate worse than death. He refused to stop complaining. They were walking through the park, the same one he spoke to his subconscious while in the coma.

“God, I just want to go to Babylon!” Michael whined. That perked up his interest.

“Alright. We'll go now.”

“Okay!”

**The sound of music reached his ears, but he recognized it immediately as that cunt Ethan's violin. It still sounded like someone was killing cats, he really couldn't understand what Justin heard in it that was beautiful. Brian turned toward Michael, effectively cutting off anything his best friend was saying with a quick interruption. “I'll meet you there.”

He walked over to Ethan, who looked completely enraptured in the music he was producing. Brian pulled out a bit of cash, but he heard the music come to an abrupt halt and Ethan's nasally voice snap, “Keep your money, I don't need it”

“That's not what I heard.” Brian stuffed the bill back into his pocket. “You're still working the streets like any other whore.”

“I'm not a whore.”

“No, you're right. They peddle their asses. You’re selling your music. Your, forgive the expression, soul.”

He saw Ethan's determined expression falter. This was it; Brian recognized his chance when he saw it. He knew full well that Justin would hate it if Ethan forced him back into the closet, and by the looks of it, he was already thinking about it. Time to give him a little push.

“What the fuck would you know about, forgive the expression, soul?”

“I know that you must've worked every day of your life since you were a kid. Playing until your fingers were numb. Pouring your heart into every measure until it was perfect so that someday you'd be a great artist.” Brian felt the distinct tang of bile rise into his throat. Complimenting this guy was hazardous to his health, he decided, but kept his face indifferent. “But, who's going to hear you now.”

“Why do you give a shit?”

I really don't give a shit, Brian wanted to shout at him. But, instead, he kept pushing by saying, “Because you deserve to be heard.”

“They wanted me to sell out.”

“You should do it.”

“So you can get Justin back?”

Brian scoffed in a pathetic attempt to stop himself from nodding in agreement. “I don't want him. I just hate to see someone holding onto their integrity for no good reason.”

“I'd expect you to say something like that. You probably woulda played for the Nazi's too.”

“If it had kept me alive for one more day you're goddamn fucking right I would. All they're asking if for you to play their game, if you're smart, you'll figure out a way to play it to your advantage.”

“I'd rather work the street, thank you.”

“Okay. Your call. But there's nothing noble about being poor.”

He knew the moment he said the words that he shouldn't have, that Justin would know who had convinced him if Ethan let those words slip. Those words, however, were the right ones. Ethan's expression went from defiant to understanding in moments, his face a mix of conflicting emotions. Brian turned and left, he didn't care about this kid, nor did he feel any remorse about ruining Justin's dream.

Brian hadn't expected to see Justin so quickly, especially not that night. He was already wasted, everyone looked hot now. One of the better looking tricks went with him to the backroom, but just as he was getting his dick sucked, Justin interrupted them with a sharp, “Fuck off.”

“I'm busy,” the trick protested. Brian still held onto his head, but let it go when Justin repeated himself. Justin stepped in the place of the trick, and despite the fact that Justin's mouth was not around his cock, he felt himself get harder at the sight of his furious glare.

Brian scoffed again. Even though the haze, Brian noticed the beauty in Justin's anger. The passion that had once been directed at him in the bedroom was now directed at him in rage. He felt a pang of remorse, the very feeling he had been trying to drown out since he started messing with Ethan, but he refused to let his feelings show. He rolled his eyes and said, “You should get a number like everyone else.”

“And you should keep your big, fucking mouth shut.”

“I wasn't the one giving the blow job.”

“What did you tell Ethan?”

“The truth.”

This time, it was Justin's turn to scoff at him, but it sounded more like a snort. His voice shook with something akin to disbelief. “There's nothing noble about being poor?”

Brian chuckled; the alcohol and drugs still running through his blood made him feel good about what he did despite Justin's pained expression. He almost snorted in stifled laughter. “He actually listened.”

“He more than listened, he signed the papers.”

“Good for him.”

“For what? That he sold out?”

“Maybe his recordings will do the same. Although personally I could never really stand violin music. Sounds like someone is torturing a cat.”

Brian tried not the look at Justin. He couldn't stand seeing those blue eyes stare at him with disbelief and a sense of betrayal. He tried to tell himself he was doing the right thing and that, in the end, Justin would be happy that this had all happened. His eyes wandered over to the man that had been sucking his dick, and suddenly he wanted to escape back into that mouth.

“What about me?” Justin asked, his voice nearly cracked as if he were about to break down and start sobbing. Guilt gnawed at his insides as his blue eyes searched Brian's face for answers that he wasn't willing to give.

“What about you?” Brian brought his face closer to Justin's, their noses almost touched. He felt the drugs pull harder at his mind as he waited for Justin to answer. When he didn't, Brian scoffed at the confusion and anguish in his eyes and continued, “You expect him to sacrifice his career for a piece of blond boy ass?” He paused before taking it a step further; putting the sharpest sarcasm he could muster into his words. “Is that your idea of true love, Sunshine?”

Justin had never looked so lost and devastated as he did then. His eyes shimmered in the blue lights of the back room, but he quickly blinked any tears from his eyes. Brian wanted to wipe the grief away, he wanted to take Justin into his arms and kiss the pain away. But Brian was well aware that kisses did nothing to take the pain away; and even if it did, Justin wasn't his to comfort anymore.

He looked at the trick again, then back at Justin, and knew what he wanted to do. He stumbled over to the trick and redirected his mouth over his dick. Justin didn't say anything, he stared at the empty spot on the wall for a moment before he disappeared from the back room, and out of Brian's sight.

Brian closed his eyes, he tried to enjoy the feeling of a hot mouth around his cock. However, he could not help but be distracted with worry. What if it didn't work? What exactly was he doing?

The trick moaned and it sent shivers down Brian's spine. He pushed the trick away from him and tucked himself back into his pants. Disgust lingered, he desperately needed a shower.

He needed a better plan. Brian tried to think of something through the drugs, but that just wasn't possible. He considered calling Daphne again; although, he figured she was probably angry at him for how he spoke to her last time.

“Brian!”

“Hey, Michael. Where's the ball and chain you were complaining about.”

“Probably at the gym. Look, Brian I'll take you home. Jesus, you're going to have a hangover in the morning.”

I don't get hangovers.”

“Right. Come on.”

Michael got him into the jeep and wrestled the keys from him. He kept insisting he was fine and could drive himself back to the loft but Michael refused to listen. If he were honest, he'd admit he was about to throw up. That wasn't acceptable in his jeep, though.

He stared out the window at the people on the sidewalk. Hustlers, he knew. Fucking hustlers.

“Fuck. Michael stop the goddamn jeep!”

“What the -” Michael stopped the jeep to the side. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No.” He took out his cell phone, switched it on, and scrolled down his stored numbers until he hit Daphne's. This had better work. “Daphne?”

“Brian, it's late. Why are you calling me.”

“When is Ethan's first concert and where is it?”

“Are you stoned?”

“No. Yes. Whatever. When is his show?”

“Next week in Harrisburg. On Saturday, I think. He doesn't want Justin to go but I think Justin is planning on surprising him. Why -”

Click. Brian grinned. “Perfect.”

“Brian, what was that about?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Mikey. Hold on one second.”

Brian stumbled out of the jeep in front of the hustlers. Most of them backed away, since the yelling had probably made most of them wary of the jeep in the first place, so Brian tried to look friendly. “Is one of you free next Saturday for the entire day? I need someone who is willing to fuck an egotistical cunt who's a violinist. And I need you to pretend he is amazing and shit.”

“I'll do it.” A man about the same age as Justin came into view. He looked cleaner than the others and was actually attractive. “How much?”

“How much do you want?”

“Two thousand.”

The other hustlers mouths dropped open at the boy's price. Brian smirked. He actually liked this kid. “Alright, two thousand for the day and another thousand if I need to you to finish the job later.”

“Brian...” Michael called from the jeep. He was distressed, Brian could always tell when Michael didn't approve of what he was doing but didn't want to say it. He handed the hustler a business card.

“I'll pick you up here on Saturday afternoon. About noon. If you suddenly can't make it, call me.” The trick only nodded in response, but the determined look he had gave Brian confidence he could accomplish the task. He sat back down in the jeep and ignored Michael's judgmental glare. “Fuck off, Mikey. Just take me home. Or better yet, get the fuck out and let me drive.”

“I don't think you should do whatever you are planning.”

“Fuck you.”

“Brian! Why can't you just let him go? He was just a trick that stayed too fucking long.”

“Shut up!” Brian slammed his foot into the dashboard and snarled at Michael. His head pounded, he couldn't think anymore, he didn't want to defend himself any fucking more. “You don't know a goddamn thing about Justin. You just want him to draw his pretty little pictures for you. Trick that stayed too long? Looks like you got good use outta him too. Sharing all that intimate writing shit, like your psycho boyfriend says.”

“You're not making any sense. You need to go to sleep.”

“Oh, you're not going to listen to me 'cause I'm stoned? That's a first, Mikey. Maybe you've grown some balls. About fucking time too. If you hadn't been following me around like a lost puppy for all these years maybe -”

“Brian,” Michael interrupted. His eyes stared at the open road sadly, every once in a while, his eyes would glance in Brian's direction. “I don't get it. He left. After all you did for him, you let him hurt you.” He paused and took a deep breath, “you've changed.”

“No I haven't.”

“Since the bashing. Suddenly you couldn't get enough of him. I just – I don't get it. Why?” Although he didn't ask it, Brian could hear the desperation in his voice that he thought disappeared a while ago. It was that old longing and jealousy Michael had toward Justin.

Brian sighed. He slouched further into the chair to try and get away from the pain in Michael's voice. He couldn't get away from the hurt and suffering and drama of the world. “Because I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm not jerking off to a picture of Patrick Swayze next to you. We're not joined at the hip and I'm not just trying to fuck as many people as I can before I die. You're my best friend. You love Ben anyway.”

“That doesn't answer my question.” Michael parked the jeep in front of Brian's apartment. “Why him?”

“He has a nice ass.”

“I'm serious, Brian.”

“So am I.” He chuckled and opened his car door. Brian put one foot on the ground, but tried to get to the ground too quickly and stumbled onto his knees. “Fuck!”

Michael was at his side in moments, helping him off the ground and up the stairs. They didn't speak about the broken elevator that Brian was going to complain about in the morning, nor did they mention the words exchanged earlier. Brian's shirt was tugged off and he felt his jeans pulled off as well after he was shoved onto the bed.

“Nice thong.” Michael commented with a snort as he laid a blanket over Brian. “Goddamn, Brian. How much did you take?”

Brian curled up a bit, he pulled the covers closer to his body and closed his eyes. “A lot.” He murmured with a grin.

“Uh huh. Night, Brian. I'll bring your jeep back in the morning.”

~***~

  
The next few mornings, Brian found himself with either a hangover or, if he had managed to not have a headache, some idiot at his work gave one to him. Everyone was whispering in the halls, they warned everyone to keep away from Brian Kinney this week. He was in a foul mood and it was best to stay away from the fire. By the time Saturday rolled around, Brian had sent two new girls crying from his office and a veteran employee devastated after his work was scorned.

However, Saturday was another day altogether. He woke up with a frown, but was quickly refreshed by the memory of what today was. His master plan was about to be put into action, and if he was careful, Justin would come running back into his arms.

“What's your name?”

“Anthony.”

He had an innocent face, Brian noted with amusement. “You haven't been in this business long, have you?”

“No.” Anthony paused and waited for Brian to ask him another question. When Brian didn't he ventured one of his own. “So why are you doing this anyway? What's the point of me fucking this guy? It's not that I don't appreciate the money and all...”

“I want to prove a point.”

The rest of the drive was very similar to this. They ate and stopped at a few sites, including getting Anthony a rented tux for the evening, and then headed to the concert. Harrisburg was familiar from a few business trips, but Brian had never taken the time to look around. The city was bustling in the winter cold, everyone wore big jackets and were bundled up. Brian looked enviously at the couples clinging to each other in an effort to stay warm.

The concert hall was beautiful, even Brian could see why it appealed to Justin. However, he still hated violin music, and when the concert began he fought the urge to cover his ears. Ethan was on stage, so Brian nudged Anthony and pointed to the right, where Ethan played. “Do you see that guy with the nasty chin hair?”

“The one with the violin.” Anthony clarified and nodded. “This guy you're trying to prove a point to wouldn't be his boyfriend, would he?”

“Perceptive.”

“So you want me to seduce him and fuck him in the bathroom? Alright, I can do that. So where is the guy you want to fuck.”

“I don't want to fuck anyone.”

“Suit yourself.”

Brian cocked an eyebrow at the young man next to him. He scanned the room for the familiar blonde head he prayed would make it to the concert. After five minutes of searching, Brian found him sitting in the back, and he smiled. Justin's attention wasn't on the concert, his eyes were focused on his lap in mild concentration. He was drawing, Brian noted with a smile. “Do you see the blond that isn't looking at the concert?”

This time, it took Anthony much longer to spot Brian's target. Finally, he saw him and said, “Damn. You sure know how to pick 'em. Why can't I fuck him instead?”

“No.”

“Aw, why not?”

Brian didn't think it was necessary to reply, so he took to watching Justin from the corner of his eye. He was so involved in drawing that he didn't look up once, not even to see Ethan. It was obvious that Justin was bored; Brian smiled, perhaps classical music was just a phase. At least, he hoped it was. He hated classical music.

Next to him, Anthony stared at Ethan until his eyes wanted to bleed from keeping them open so long. It worked, however, and during a brief interlude he saw Ethan's eyes graze around where he was sitting. He must have felt his eyes on him, because when Brian looked between them he noticed Anthony was flirting and Ethan was staring back. Perfect.

After the concert was over, Anthony positioned himself at the doorway while Ethan talked to several others. Brian noticed how he turned from a seductive hustler to giving off the appearance of innocence. If Brian didn't know better, he would have though Anthony was actually interested in Ethan.

Ethan saw him and walked over to him. They talked for a few minutes, Anthony even managed a blush and allowed Ethan to steer him away just as Justin about to reach the stairs. Brian saw his face twist in confusion and disbelief – again. How many times had he put that look on his face?

It didn't take long for Justin to leave, luckily without noticing him on the other side of the room, and as much as Brian wanted to follow him out, he had to wait for Anthony. He took a deep breath. This would work, it had to.

~~**~~

  
But it hadn't worked.

“What the fuck do you mean it didn't work?” He screamed into the phone at Daphne. She yelped on the other line, and cursed at him.

“I can't believe you did that in the first place. Making Ethan cheat -”

“I didn't make him.”

“Fine. Giving him the opportunity, which he took!”

“Yeah, exactly. So what'd Justin say to you?”

“He said that Ethan said he didn't so he believed him.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“No. Except, he isn't all that convinced but he wants to believe him so he is.”

“Thanks.”

“Brian, wait, I don't think -”

Click. Brian threw the phone on the couch and grabbed his jacket. He wondered as he locked the door and set the alarm how long Daphne planned on keeping his plan a secret, especially if he kept hanging up on her. He banished the thoughts from his mind, however, as he sped toward the corner Anthony was last week.

He was desperate, even Brian recognized how pathetic he was becoming. Doing everything for a piece of blond boy ass? Yes. That and a little more.

“Hey.” Anthony greeted him with a smile. He was wearing a jean jacket and was much cleaner than he had been the last time Brian picked him up. “It didn't work.”

“Shut up and get in the jeep.”

Anthony shrugged. He didn't care what happened to Brian and Justin – much. He hopped into the jeep and asked, “So what do you want me to do this time. Fuck him again? Because, no offense to Blondie, but he kinda sucked. Not that he wasn't well endowed or anything but -”

“I don't want to hear about the fiddlers dick, thanks.” Brian snapped. “I need you to confess your undying love for him tonight. Or something. Whatever convinces Blondie – Justin that he cheated.”

“I don't think I need to confess love or anything, ya know.”

“Whatever. Just do what it takes.”

“I need roses.”

“Why the fuck do you need flowers?”

“Not flowers. _Roses_. I'll go and give him roses and tell him how much last time meant.”

“What does it matter if they are roses or not?”

“Roses mean love.”

“You're a romantic, huh?” Anthony didn't answer him. They went to the flower shop in silence, bought the roses, and arrived at Ethan's apartment without exchanging anymore conversation. It was just the way Brian preferred it. He didn't need to get lectured by a hustler.

When Anthony came back about fifteen minutes later, he was grinning like little kid. The expression only made it harder for Brian to remember he was a hustler, and not a normal kid. “It worked. And I listened in on their conversation for you.”

“Really?” Brian began to drive again, he waited a few moments for Anthony to start talking but when he didn't, he figured he wanted him to ask. “Fine. What did he say?”

“How much.”

“You're bribing me?”

“Yeah. I need some more tuition money.”

“How much.”

“Just another five hundred.”

“Done.”

Anthony grinned. “Awesome. Ethan said that he should be able to forgive him because he forgave you for tricking -”

“What? That's not the same thing.”

“Do you want to hear the rest or not?” Brian nodded. “Anyway, so Blondie replied that he never needed to forgive you because you didn't promise him anything.”

“So you're a college student?” Brian changed the subject with ease and Anthony did not call him out on it. “Why don't your parents help you with tuition?”

“Ha, they threw me out 'cause I'm gay. Not that they could have helped much anyway, but I can't get any financial aid because they won't fill out the paper work. And without them I couldn’t get a loan either so... I was screwed.”

“Why not just get a normal job?”

“I tried but... look, you don't have to ask me questions.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Brian swallowed the fast growing lump in his throat. How close had Justin come to being in the same situation as this kid? What if he had gotten kicked out? What if Justin had never been bashed and Brian had never taken him in? Would he be like this kid? Desperate enough to sell himself for tuition while he worked to keep a roof over his head? The idea made him sick. “I’ll help you get a better job or something.”

“Or you could just need my services every semester.” Anthony chuckled but shook his head. “Look. I'll figure something out. I know I can't be around you after this, just in case Blondie recognizes me.”

“I -”

“Drop me off here.”

Brian consented. He pulled over, but leaned over Anthony to keep the door shut. “Where do you go to school?”

“Don't worry about it.” Anthony pushed Brian out of the way and opened the door. He hopped out onto the pavement and smiled. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait -”

“I told you. You don't have to do anything for me. You've already done enough. Thanks for the money.”

“I never paid you the extra five hundred.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “You know where to find me. I trust you.” Brian never got to reply to that one, because Anthony ran down the street to the corner and turned back and waved. He was grinning, and it only got wider when Brian waved back. Brian watched him until he disappeared behind the corner; when he finally drove back to the loft he couldn't stop the onslaught of regret washing over him.

He couldn't stand how close Justin had come to being in Anthony's situation. Although he hated Chris Hobbs for what he did to Justin, Brian was strangely appreciative of what happened as a result. He may have been already accepting of Justin, but he didn't know if he would have helped as much without the prom incident.

Yes. I would have, he told himself firmly.

Brian headed over to Michael's first, he intended to apologize to him about what they had said that night after Babylon. They may have went on without acknowledging what happened, but he didn't want to. When he walked into the small comic store, Michael was putting new issues on the racks and talking to a customer.

“Hey, Mikey. Can we talk?”

The customer froze, then walked out muttering to himself before Mikey could stop him. “Brian, he was about to buy Rage. You scared him off.”

“Oops.” Brian put his arm around Michael's shoulder. “I just wanted to come see my favorite comic book nerd.”

“Cut the crap, Brian. What are you here for?”

“I wanted to buy Rage.”

“You? Buy Rage?” Michael's eyes widened. “Why? Is this another plan of yours? Did your other scheme to get Justin back not work.”

“What? I can't read it? When is the next issue coming out?”

“I don't know... Brian... are you okay?” He didn't know what to say. Thousands of biting comments came to mind – all except the apology he came to make. Maybe if he stared at him long enough, Michael would get the point. It surprised him when Michael smiled and gave him a look that almost replied that his apology was taken. Sometimes, he thought Michael didn't know him at all, but other times they could almost read each others mind. He supposed it had to do with the amount of time they knew each other, or it was just lucky guesses.

“I'm having dinner with Ben tonight so I can't make it to Babylon. Okay?”

“Sure.” Brian gave Michael a quick peck on the lips. Their strange kissing habits caused some to ogle at them like they were mad, especially Ben and Justin, but it was something just between them. A ritual, of sorts, going back to their high school days. With that kiss, everything was forgiven in their own unique way. It was his apology, and Michael's acceptance.

Brian drove back to the loft and cursed at the broken elevator before he proceeded to the stairs. When he turned the corner of the last stairway, he saw a familiar figure sitting at the top of it. Justin wasn't looking at him, he was staring at the ground with puffy eyes and a red nose.

“Justin?” He hurried up the rest of the stairs. No, it was too soon. There was no way he came here right afterward. “What are you doing here?”

“I had a fight with Ethan.”

“And you thought coming here was a good idea?”

Justin scowled. “You know what, never mind.” He stood up to leave, but Brian grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Come on in, since you're here.” Justin didn't argue. He watched Brian open the loft door before he picked up his bag, which Brian had not noticed until now, and walked inside. “So what happened?”

“Ethan cheated on me.”

He was so blunt, so indifferent in his tone of voice that it took Brian a moment to gather his thoughts. Justin may have been crying earlier, but now he appeared to be shut off. “Why do you think relationships are only for straight people?” Justin asked, turning around. “Why can't we have that too?”

“Because I'm no Susie home maker.”

“Argh!” Justin threw the bag across the room and stomped over to Brian, looking absolutely murderous. “I don't care! I don't' care if you're not Susie whoever or we don't' have a white picket fence or – Whatever!” Brian took a step back from him, but was not fast enough. Justin grabbed the front of his Armani shirt and pulled him back against him. “Is it really that hard for gay men to keep it in their pants?”

Brian thought Justin was about to punch him, kick him, anything but hug him. But he felt Justin's hands release his shirt and warp around him a tight embrace. He was heaving dry sobs and his face was buried in Brian's shoulder. “I hate him.”

Brian rubbed his back in a way he hoped was soothing; he was unsure of what else he could do for him. He kissed his forehead.

“Fuck me.”

“What?” Brian leaned back to get a good look at Justin's face. His nose was running a little and was red like a cherry, and his eyes still had pools of tears gathering in the corners. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“What?” Justin pulled away from him, quickly wiping his nose on his sleeve before he pulled off his shirt. “A pity fuck isn't a good fuck or something?”

“I don't do pity fucks.”

“There's a type of fuck you don't do?” Justin's tone held a bitter edge that cut Brian deep to his core. He frowned and grabbed Justin's shoulders. His lips were swollen from trying to hold back tears, they looked absolutely kissable. He wanted to do it, he ached for Justin's touch against him. It turned out he didn't need to make the decision, Justin did for him. He raised himself on his tip toes and brushed his lips against Brain's.

After so long, after all the hours he imagined it, Brian couldn't have imagined anything better. Suddenly, they went beyond brushing their lips together, and began kiss each other roughly. Justin's tongue was the first to venture into the others familiar mouth, and Brian couldn't contain a moan from escaping. He felt Justin smile into their kiss as he pushed him toward the bed.

This was real. This wasn't a dream. This was Justin, in his bed, shirtless, waiting to be fucking by Brian Kinney. Yet, it was so wrong.

“I can't do this now, Justin.”

“What do you mean?”

 _I can't take advantage of you_ , he wanted to say. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around Justin and pulled him back to lay on the bed with him. “I'm keeping it in my pants.” He whispered. Justin relaxed in his arms, he sighed when Brian tightened his hold on him and kissed his neck.

This night, nothing was wrong. Nothing in the entire universe could pull them from sleep and Brian did not dream that night.

  


~~**~~

They both woke up the next morning in the same position they fell asleep in. Justin flipped around so he was facing Brian, and nuzzled into his shoulder. “Wake up,” Justin whispered with a quick nip at Brian's ear.

“Ah shit.” Brian said. “I must be in a coma again.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” Justin sat up in bed, he looked around nervously before he found his bag. “I hope none of the paint in there opened. That'll be a mess. Do you want breakfast? I think there should be one more can of tomato soup in there.”

“You want tomato soup for breakfast?”

“Why not? I don't want to go to the diner and there probably isn't anything else here.”  
Brian shrugged and consented to the strange breakfast. He had half the mind to reject the food, since he had been forced to pour a bunch down the drain from the last time Justin was here, but he was actually hungry for once. Brian watched Justin pad around the kitchen as if it were his own, a fact that Brian didn't mind at all.

When he finally got up, Justin already had the soup on the stove cooking. He wrapped his arms around Justin's shoulders and breathed in. “Smells good.”

“Uh huh. Say, I ran into this interesting kid on my way here last night.”

“Really.” Brian rolled his eyes. This was Justin's idea of small talk?

“He said his name was Anthony.” Brian's arms stiffened. “He goes to school with me, can you believe it? I didn't even recognize him until he mentioned he was in my class last semester. I wasn't paying much attention to anyone at school back then.”

“That's interesting. What'd he have to say?”

“Nothing much. Except this insane story about how this guy in nice clothes picked him up to help him in this crusade to get his ex back.”

“Uh huh.”

“He asked me what I thought about it. I told him I thought it was, well, insane. That the other guy should just let his ex be happy. So I asked him why he even agreed to such a stupid plan.” Brain didn't' say anything. He was waiting for Justin to blow up and tell him he was an asshole and go back to Ethan. “He said that the ex didn't look happy at all and he had been miserable for a few weeks. Seems that he's in my class this semester too and when he saw me, he knew he didn't have to feel guilty. He mentioned it was actually kinda sweet that this guy was willing to spend a few grand just to get him back.”

Brian looked away from Justin, suddenly feeling guilty and elated at all the same time. “Sorry.” He muttered, releasing Justin' from his arms.

“Don't get me wrong. I was really mad when he told me it was you. I was sitting up on the stairs for a half hour thinking of ways to kill you. But... Then I saw your face when I started to yell at you. I couldn't forget you being in the hospital. Fuck, Brian. I was so scared. You know what I think it means? All of it, I mean.”

Justin walked up to him smiling, he grabbed Brian's face, much to his surprise, and kissed him. He kept grinning and when they broke apart, Justin winked and said, “I think it mean he loves his Sunshine and wanted him back.”

“Really now.”

“Yes. You love me! Brian Kinney loves me!”

Brian smiled. He remembered that night with the trick, when he wished for him to be Justin and it just happened. Hopefully, now that Justin was back in his arm, he wasn't gong to wake up this time. He kissed Justin again and said, “Don't let it get to your head. The soup is going to burn if you don't stir it.”

“Ah shit!” Justin rushed to save the soup, grinning all the while. He stared at Justin as he put the soup into bowls and place them on the table. “Brian, it's going to get cold if you just stand there.” Tomato soup. Gods how ridiculously useless it was, kinda like love in his mind. But, somehow, it was exactly what he wanted.


End file.
